


A Wonderful, Awful Idea

by MagicalStranger13



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalStranger13/pseuds/MagicalStranger13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bog comes home to find that his wife has a early Christmas treat in store for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wonderful, Awful Idea

**Author's Note:**

> My Secret Santa gift to jupiter235 <3
> 
> Merry Christmas, dear! I hope you love it as much as I do!

“Marianne, I’m home!”  Bog called as the front door swung open and he stepped inside the house out of the snow.  “I picked up the dry-cleaning and we got another Christmas card in the-!  Wha- _aaa_ -at is…happening?”

Inside the King’s residence, it was the picture of holiday coziness.  The tree lights were on, the candles were lit, and a roaring fire was crackling away in the hearth.  None of which was the cause for his goofy derailment. 

No, that honor belonged to his lovely and, right now, completely _evil_ wife, Marianne.

She was standing by the fireplace wearing a satin, bright cherry red push-up bra and matching panties, both trimmed with white faux fur.  A pair of black, spike heeled, knee-high leather boots adorned her perfect legs and perched on her head was an adorable Santa hat. 

Bog barely noticed the sound of the dry-cleaning bag and their new Christmas card falling to the floor beside him as he gaped at her in lustful awe.    

Without a doubt, she was trying to get back at him for last week, when she came home from work and caught him belting out Bon Jovi’s ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’ while he chopped wood in the backyard.  He would never look at a hammock the same way again. 

“Shut the door, Mr. King.”  She murmured with the sassiest smile on her lips.  “You’re letting in cold air.”

The knob rattled as Bog clumsily reached behind him to do as she said, for there was no way in _hell_ he was taking his eyes off of her for a second. 

“Sit.”  She commanded once the front door was shut and locked, nodding towards Bog’s favorite easy chair.

Tossing his coat and scarf off along the way, he almost tripped over his size 13 feet as he scrambled past the couch to plop himself into the seat.  His hands gripped the armrests like a vice as Marianne sauntered towards him.

“I thought it’d be nice if one of your Christmas presents came a little early this year.” She said as she stopped in front of him and traced a single finger over the left cup’s edge of her bra.  “Are you ready for it?” 

“Yes, ma’am.”  He barely managed to say before he nearly stopped breathing altogether when he caught the way Marianne’s eyes darkened with sinful intent. 

“Alright then, now there’s only _one_ rule before we begin, and you better not break it.”  She purred, bracing her hands on top of his wrists and leaning in so close, his eyes came close to rolling back from the delicious scent of her alone.  “ _No_ touching me until I’m through.  Got it?”

He gulped and answered her with a shaky nod.

“Good boy.”

Satisfied, she stepped away with a flourish and approached the stereo they kept to the right of the fireplace.  She pressed a single button, strutted to center of the room and faced her husband with a wicked gleam in her eye. 

Bog let out a breathless chuckle when he heard the opening chord of “You’re A Mean One, Mr. Grinch” fill the air.  How appropriate; his pants were already feeling two sizes two small……and come to think of it, he was wearing the green sweater Marianne had gotten for him last Christmas! 

His thought processes shut down altogether when his wife began to sashay her hips and sing in the sultriest voice he’d ever heard.

_~You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch~_

She put her hands on her knees and dipped down slightly, the motion squished her breasts together, accentuating her cleavage and making Bog’s mouth water.

_~You really are a heel~_

_~You're as cuddly as a cactus~_

Her arms around her body in a groping embrace as she pivoted to the side and smoothly gyrated her pelvis.

_~You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch~_

_~You're a bad banana with a~_

Bog nearly slid out of the chair when Marianne looked coyly over her shoulder at him and sucked a finger into her mouth.

_~greasy black peel~_

With the poise of a cat, she walked all the way around to the back of the chair and he gasped when he felt thump of her body press against it in sync with the music.

_~You're a monster, Mr. Grinch~_

Her arm snaked over the back of the chair and skittered across his shoulder.

_~Your heart's~_

A helpless groan escaped Bog’s lips when her hand, burning hot through his sweater, palmed the beating left side of his chest for a second, before finger walking down his torso towards his-!

_~an empty hole~_

At the last possible moment, she swept away and circled back around to the front of the chair, stretching her arms up to cradle her head and flaunting her toned stomach.

_~Your brain is full of spiders, you have garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch~_

Balancing on one leg, she crossed her arms and extended her right leg to his aching crotch.

_~I wouldn't touch you with a~_

She slowly dragged the heel of her boot up the length of Bog’s trapped erection.

_~thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole~_

He couldn’t help bucking towards the teasing pressure and he bit back a howl of frustration when she spun away again.  Her balance in those boots was truly remarkable!

_~You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch~_

Cocking her head almost shyly, she slid her hands over her breasts and behind her back.

_~You have termites in your smile~_

The bra loosened and Bog squirmed in his seat as she slipped the straps off and daintily tossed the garment to the side.  He’d never get tired of seeing her perfect tits.  Her taunt nipples were begging to be squeezed and suckled.

_~You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch~_

As if reading his mind, her fingers ghosted up her ribcage to gently pinch her rosy peaks. 

_~Given a choice between the two of you'd take the uh, seasick crocodile~_

Marianne then turned to present her smooth back to her husband.  Arching like a bow, she groped her buttocks much like _he_ usually would whenever he took her from behind.  Without warning, she shot him another playful grin and bent all the way over, dragging her panties down and giving him the most fantastic view of her bare ass and pussy.

_~You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch~_

When she kicked her underwear away, she coiled to the ground like a snake and rolled onto her back, spreading her legs and bringing her right hand so dangerously close to her dripping core.  Cursing under his breath, Bog’s breathing grew heavier by the second and his palms were slick with sweat beneath his knuckle-white grip on the arm rests. 

_~You're the king of sinful sots~_

Quickly, so as to stay on beat, Marianne gracefully twisted around so she could rise onto her hands and knees and crawl towards him like the sex kitten she was.  

_~Your heart's a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch~_

Upon reaching him, she immediately undid his belt and the front of his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers, all the way down to his ankles.  Bog hissed at the feeling of his now free swollen shaft flopping up against his stomach, yearning for his wife’s touch.  

_~You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce~_

She moaned and finally-finally- _finally_ straddled his lap!

_~You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch~_

Her torture continued by her choice to sit far enough back on Bog’s thighs so that she wouldn’t be in contact with his member.  Instead, she focused on driving her fingers up the sides of his neck, past his flushed face and into his hair.

_~With a nauseous super "naus"~_

She lightly scratched his scalp, making him shudder.

_~You're a crooked, jerky, jockey and you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Grinch~_

Suddenly, she dropped her voice down to a breathy whisper in his ear and Bog’s hands almost shot out to clutch her hips.  Thankfully, he was able to freeze them in midair and ball them into fists so tight, his nails felt like they were carving gouges into his palms.  He somehow even resisted the urge to desperately kiss her.  By no means an easy feat, considering how she kept occasionally licking and nibbling his earlobe.   

_~Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable; mangled up in tangled up knots~_

It took all of Bog’s strength to keep still as she grabbed the hem of his green sweater and worked it up over his head.  Once it was off, she hungrily raked her nails down the expanse of his chest and stomach

_~You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch~_

She mouthed his left nipple and Bog nearly bit hard enough on his lip to draw blood.

_~You're a nasty wasty skunk~_

Her fingers drummed against the top of his hipbones and crept a path around to the extremely sensitive spot on the small of his back.

_~Your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch~_

Bog flinched, gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut in tormented rapture, unknowingly pushing his face in close to Marianne’s.  Her lips brushed against his own, just enough to tease, yet denying him a true kiss.

_~The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote~_

Gripping him in her hand, she positioned his tip at her glistening entrance and sharply dropped down on him to punctuate the last three words:

_~"Stink!”~_

“FUCK!”

_~“Stank!”~_

“AH!”

~“S _tunk!"~_

Bog couldn’t take it anymore, and thank Jesus-fucking-Christ the goddamn song was over, for he seized Marianne’s hips in a death-grip and slammed her back down onto his cock, beginning a gloriously furious rhythm that had the both of them instantly screaming.  

It felt so incredibly good, even if Bog tried, he wouldn’t have been able to pitch them both forward to the floor so he could fuck her like the wild animal she always turned him into at times like this.  All he could do was thrust his hips up and drown in the ecstasy of her riding him with abandon.  She held fast to the wings of the chair for leverage as she drove herself down on him without mercy.  Her cunt was so blissfully warm, wet, and almost painfully tight, and he was so turned on by her performance, he knew he wasn’t going to last long at all.  He used his last shred of concentration to reach between them and thumb her clit as he watched her breasts dance before his eyes while she bounced on him. 

But apparently, she had one last trick up her sleeve for an encore, because she captured his lips in a devouring kiss for a split second…

…and then deliberately clenched her inner muscles.

Bog tore his mouth away with a hoarse cry at the sensation.  His right arm hugged her against him and his left hand squeezed her hip with enough force to leave bruises come morning. 

“ _MARIANNE_!  OH, FUCK!  FUCK, YES!  I’M CUMMING!  I’M _CUMMING_!”

“YES!  YES!  YES!  OH GOD, BOG!  COME ON, BABY!  CUM FOR ME!” 

As his queen commanded, Bog instantly burst inside of her with a bestial roar of pleasure that was soon accented by Marianne’s own keening sob of completion.  

Boneless, except for his arms which remained locked around the most precious woman in the world, Bog lay sprawled in the chair panting from exhaustion.  It seemed like an eternity of divine afterglow passed before Marianne spoke.

“So…” she huffed, still trying to catch her breath, “did you….like…your early Christmas…present?”

“It was…the best.”  Bog sighed as if drunk.  “Thank ye, love.”

“The best, huh?”  His wife chuckled, lifting herself off of him with a bit of a wobble.  “I wouldn’t be…so sure about that, if I were you.”

Bog blinked at her in confusion as she ignored her discarded clothes and headed for the stairs with a renewed sway in her hips. 

“Wh-What do ye…mean?”

Marianne paused on the first step and cast a devious smirk in his direction.

“I mean that Christmas is still a few days away, and if you keep on being a _good_ boy…,” she licked her lips before continuing on her way upstairs, “Santa just might bring you something even _better_.”

The suggestion was like a shock of horny energy to Bog’s system and he bolted up to go after her.  Unfortunately, he’d forgotten all about his pants still rucked around his ankles.   

A feminine giggle followed the sound of him falling flat on his face, but eventually, when he freed himself and made it to the second floor, there was nothing but sweet noise-noise-noise-noise emanating from their bedroom all night long. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment or kudos! I love to hear from you all! ;D  
> <3


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